


We don't have a washing machine

by zavegonzo



Series: Random Ficlets [4]
Category: Cognitive Dissonance - Fandom, MOTHER: Cognitive Dissonance
Genre: But he swears only one time in english, Fangame: Mother: Cognitive Dissonance, Foreign Language Swearing, I Dislike Comments, Im not sure if this is fluff or crack, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Please Do Not Comment, This isn't angst and honestly I'm SO out of my depth, english swearing, fluff?, gratuitous Spanish, i have no idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 00:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20218489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zavegonzo/pseuds/zavegonzo
Summary: What is one to do when they don't have a washing machine? Why, hand-wash their clothes at 3 AM, of course!





	We don't have a washing machine

Calzone awoke in the middle of the night. His bladder was full, and it felt like it was going to burst.

He got up, stepped out into the hall, and made his way to the bathroom.

Just as he reached the door, he stopped. He heard a sound…

_Splish, splash…_ It was coming from another hallway. Calzone looked around the corner, and made a face.

There, in the middle of the hall, Rodrigo was squatting over a bucket of soapy water, frantically scrubbing at a drenched beige suit while wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.

Calzone blinked all three of their eyes in unison. “…Uh, Rodrigo?”

Rodrigo looked at Calzone. “’Sup.”

“…Why are you washing clothes at 3 AM?”

“We don’t have a washing machine,” said Rodrigo, “and these are the only clothes that I have. I’ve been washing them every night.”

“…At 3 AM, though?”

“There’s a reason I always sleep in, you know.” Rodrigo rapidly scrubbed at one spot of the suit, just underneath the left armpit. He muttered, “Pinche mancha…”

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” said Calzone.

“You didn’t really ask one,” Rodrigo snapped.

Calzone crossed his upper tentacles. “…Well, _why_ at 3 AM, though?”

“I work better at night,” said Rodrigo. He kept scrubbing at that spot, but it looked like that stain wasn’t going anywhere.

“At… night? Dude, this is a space ship. You could just turn off the lights, and it’s pretty much the same thing.”

Rodrigo shook his head. “No, I mean, I work better when it _feels_ like night. Y’know, when I’m slightly loopy from sleep deprivation, and everyone’s asleep, and there’s nothing but me and this _fucking stain hijo de puta..._” Rodrigo scrubbed at the stain like he was trying to start a fire. A vein bulged in his forehead.

Calzone walked next to Rodrigo and leaned over his shoulder. “That stain’s giving you trouble, huh?”

“Sure is,” he said through grit teeth.

He glanced up. “…Say, Calzone, how come _you’re_ up, anyway?”

“I was going to go to the bathroom,” said Calzone. As he said that, he was reminded of his pressing need to do so. “Anyway, bye.”

He quickly walked off to the bathroom, did his business, and went back to his room.

As he drifted to sleep in his hyberpod, he thought, _‘I should probably buy a washing machine…’_


End file.
